Halloo friends. I decided to start putting together a short collection of Minecraft oneshots and drabbles. Some of these might be set in stories that I'm writing (I.E. the Sunset AU), and most will be based off of prompts. Send in your ideas in the comments!
This is a short story based off a prompt from the wonderful orchidlove123. Enjoy or cry, it's your choice.
The two boys had been together forever. But it seemed like forever was about to be over as the zombie horde advanced.
Mitch looked towards Jerome. "You ready, biggums?"
"You, me, and Betty. I always thought that this would be how it ended."
"This isn't the end," Mitch protested, hefting his iron sword. "You always say that. You've said it a million times."
The time that poisonous swords had been slipped to all of their opponents in the Hunger Games.
The time that skeletons had been waiting on the rooftops, and Mitch had found the letter in their leader's pouch, signed by Seto and promising payment for his and Jerome's heads.
The time in the city, where Seto had unleashed a charged creeper on the helpless village.
The time that the sorcerer had dueled them himself, and they'd only barely gotten away. "I'll get you soon," he'd promised.
And now here, backed against the well, surrounded by zombies on all sides.
"Any battle pla—" Jerome started to say, but then was cut off as a dart impaled itself in his foot. Mitch cried out as the same happened to him. He looked up, and met the insane gaze of the sorcerer who'd once been their friend.
"Hello, Mitch," Seto grinned. He was always smiling now, it seemed. "I'd kill you myself, but then you wouldn't be able to join my very special friends. I call them Team Zombie. Way cooler than Team Crafted, right?" He laughed.
"Eat hot death, Seto," Jerome snarled.
"Oh no, Jerome. Death is cold. Very cold. But I don't have to tell you. You'll find out soon enough, when you join my pets. Don't worry, though. I hear the zombification process is so painful that you can't even think, much less wonder what temperature it is. Oh well. You can tell me later. I'll just watch you, shall I?" Seto giggled again, and then teleported himself to the roof of a nearby house.
The zombies groaned as they advanced, and Mitch desperately tried to yank his foot out of the ground. "Jerome! Can you get loose?"
"I'm trying," he hissed, struggling against the dart. "Damn it, I will not be eaten by zombies."
"He enchanted the darts," Mitch realized suddenly. "We can't escape."
Even as he spoke the words, a wrenching sensation tore through his foot as Seto's dart sprouted barbs, burying itself deeper in the ground and into his foot. Guessing by the Fluffy's gasp of pain, the same thing was happening to him. The zombies lurched ever closer.
"Umm… about this being it for us… maybe you were right," Mitch said, trying for a smile. He failed. Come on, biggums. One more laugh. I need one last laugh.
Jerome chuckled weakly. "First time I've heard you say that."
A slimy hand brushed at Mitch's foot, and he severed it with his sword. The zombie growled angrily as it stepped back to join its fellow undead. "Don't tell anyone," Mitch pleaded.
"I won't," Jerome promised.
"Swear?" he pressed. Three zombies lurched forward, and he fought them as best he could, what with his right foot planted in the ground. Parry, lunge, stab. Slash. Duck.
"I swear," Jerome said, swinging Betty at the nearest zombie. The axe bit into bone with a thud.
Mitch hissed as a zombie's filthy nails tore through his skin, scraping into the muscle. He hacked at the creature, but there were many more to take its place. "Good. Because if you told anyone, I'd have to hunt you down and murder you."
"Of course. I wouldn't do anything less than the same for you."
"Glad we're on the same page." Parry, duck, slash. Stab, lunge, block. Duck again. Slash again.
A zombie pushed at Mitch, and he fell back. Ironically, Seto's dart saved him from falling into the well and drowning. But he hit his head and landed in the dirt. The zombies groaned their triumph, and Seto laughed from his position on the roof. "Score for Team Zombie! Scream loudly, Mitch! I want to hear you!"
Mitch did scream as the nearest zombie tore a chunk out of his flesh. Jerome wheeled, stabbing the zombie in the chest. Black blood slowly oozed out around the edges of the wound as the monster fell back. "J-Jerome," Mitch whispered.
"It's okay," the Fluffy soothed him, eviscerating a zombie with a swipe of his axe.
"H-how s-stupid do y-you th-think I am, you d-dumb Bacca?" he teased weakly. Betty swooped down over him, beheading a zombie. "I n-need to ask you something."
"Ask away," Jerome answered. Mitch felt a burning in his eyes. Stupid tears. He didn't want to cry.
"Don't l-let me die like th-this. D-don't let me b-become one of th-them."
"You want me to…?" Jerome whispered, his voice trailing off as he spun around, his diamond axe cleaving through a circle of zombies.
"K-kill me. F-fast." Mitch swallowed, his throat dry. "P-please, b-biggums."
Jerome nodded, and his axe started falling towards Mitch's chest.
A little boy, shooting targets in his backyard, all his arrows hitting the bullseye.
The same boy, slightly older, waving to the furry new student in his classroom.
The boy, now a teenager, laughing with a group of his friends.
The boy watching with the others as one of his friends ran away into the dark.
The boy lying on the ground with a diamond axe buried in his heart.
And then nothing but pure darkness all around.